


A Perfect Dream

by Inori



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Love Confessions, M/M, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 09:40:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6189532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inori/pseuds/Inori
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oswald met a magician who claimed to be able to provide 'a perfect dream' for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Perfect Dream

Since the day he was assigned to Gotham City as a detective, Jim has seen countless unbelievable crime scenes and crazy criminals; he thought he was already too experienced to be shocked by anything, however, Gotham City never lets you down. Every time you think things can’t be crazier, it jumps out and yells “YES WE CAN”.  
That was all Jim could think of when he arrived at Oswald’s nightclub, seeing the sleeping Penguin surrounded by his worried heelers.   
Ten minutes before he got a call from Butch, who stated that there was ‘something wrong’ about Oswald and he needed Jim to be here immediately. Jim knew Butch wasn’t the exaggerating type, he must have called for something really important or even fatal. So he drove to the club without even noticing his partner Bullock. It was definitely a rash decision, but he persuaded himself that it was because Penguin is an important snitch for GCPD, not because Oswald is special to him.  
Before he entered the club he had expected a bloody crime scene, or at least something violent. However, everything in the nightclub was fine and in order, except that the owner was lying on one of the coach, sleeping soundly like a baby. There seems to be nothing even close to fatal, so Jim raises his eyes to Butch, and asks: “What’s wrong with him?”  
Butch casts a “you hopeless fool” look on him, and answers briefly: “He’s sleeping.”  
Before Jim can express his anger on being teased, Butch adds: “He’s been like that for almost 20 hours. We tried every method to wake him up, but none of them worked.”  
Jim frowns and replies: “You should take him to the hospital rather than calling me. I’m not a doctor.”  
Butch rolls his eyes as if Jim was saying something so obvious and stupid that it doesn’t worth answering at all. He points at the corner of the coach, where there lies a glowing round stone, inches away from Oswald’s finger tips. Clearly he was holding that stone before falling asleep.  
“We found a tip sticking at his chest. It reads that he was cursed by a witch and sealed in his dream, only the person he dreamed of could reach him and bring him back to life.”  
Even as a small child, Jim wasn’t a fan of fairy tale. But this one sounds too familiar not to make an association. He frowned and replied: “Then go and find his Ms. Right. Don’t count me in, obviously I’m not his.”  
Butch frowns on hearing this. But he doesn’t burst into anger as Jim expected. Slowly he nods and smiles, then turns to the others to give an order.  
“OK. We’ve done here. Contact the undertaker and make an order of coffin, the best one.”  
Jim is completely outraged on hearing this. He grabs the collar of Butch and yells in disbelief: “What the hell are you doing? He is not dead, just sleeping!”  
“If he stays like that, his death will be just a matter of time.” Butch answers indifferently, waving Jim’s hand off his collar, “He will either die of malnutrition or be assassinated by his enemies. Besides, we don’t need an unconscious boss; a good funeral is all we can do for him.”  
“Fine, you win.” Jim signs in compromise, “I’ll take him home and try this fairy tale thing. But if it doesn’t work, I’ll send him back.”

One hour later, Jim drives home with a sleeping penguin in his back seat.  
To be honest Oswald looks ten times better when he is sleeping. There is no bloody smile on his face and no malice in his eyes. He curls up when they hit turbulence, so innocent and harmless that it is hard to think of the dirty deeds he has done. Jim looks at him through the rearview mirror, and frowns at the words Butch threw to him. He has to admit that he was frightened by the assumption that Oswald would die. What an irony, he is worrying about someone who considers killing and being killed as his lifetime career. Jim won’t be surprised if one day he is called to a crime scene and finds out the victim is Oswald. But knowing Oswald is dead at some shadowy corner of the old town is one thing, watching him dying within his sight without offering any help is another. Jim is a competent policeman. It’s his duty to protect people from death threat, no matter whether that person is a gangster or an ordinary civilian. He didn’t kill Oswald at the harbor the first day they met even though his own life was under threat, never will he do for the rest of his life.

He carries the sleeping Penguin in his house. At first he planned to throw him on the sofa and grab a chair for himself, but on second thought, he figured out that he has to jump into Oswald’s dream, which indicates that he will be hypnotized by that cursed stone as well. Jim has had enough experience sleeping on a chair, it is anything but comfortable. Hence he moves Oswald to his guest room, puts him on the bed and lies down next to him. Before touching the glowing stone Jim casts a glance on Oswald, in unreasonable hope that he will wake up just on time and save both of them from this embarrassing situation. Unfortunately, his wish isn’t heard by any God.  
“You’d better dream of something normal.” Jim signed and murmured, finally putting his hand onto that glowing stone, “Otherwise I’ll charge you for attacking police officer.”  
He closes the eyes and tries to fall asleep at this rather early hour. He can feel the heat inside his palm, which makes him so uncomfortable that he finds it’s hard to feel even close to sleepy. However, before he gives up and opens his eyes, a sudden dizzy hits him. He falls down onto the bed and loses consciousness in seconds. 

Jim wakes up in a night club, or to be precise, it is the club owned by Oswald. Unlike the one he left just hours before, which was crowded by worried gangsters, this one is almost empty. He sees Oswald sitting in a coach right in front of the stage, drinking alone. He turns his eyes to Jim on hearing the noise. He looks a bit surprised on seeing Jim, the surprise quickly turns into pure happiness. Jim has seen this expression several times, but this time, it feels so private and embarrassing. Oswald is genuinely happy seeing him, even in his very private dream, never did Jim take this fact seriously.

“I see, that’s what you called ‘the perfect dream’.” Oswald gazes at him and smiles, in a way that Jim had never saw before, “Very impressive, I have to admit.”  
He walks towards Jim with a glass of wine, ignoring the confused look in Jim’s eyes, and smiles elegantly.  
“Do you mind having a drink with me, Mr. Phantom?”  
Focusing on the task of bringing Oswald back to consciousness, Jim turns him down quickly. “I’m not here to drink with you, Cobblepot. I’m here to bring you back.”  
“Don’t be so boring, Mr. Phantom. It’s fine, we have plenty of time.” Oswald interrupts him with stubborn voice, “Be my guest, since you are in my dream.”  
He pours another glass of wine and hands it to Jim. Jim has long been aware of how stubborn Oswald can be, he has no choice but to accept it. Oswald smiles a warm smile at him, and sits next to him at the bar.  
“Firstly, I want to thank you for showing up in my dream, Mr. Phantom.” Oswald says in low voice, “I’ve been dreaming of this moment for long.”  
For a second Jim is too shocked to say anything. He hates to admit but, Butch was right, Oswald did dream of him. Of all the people on earth, he dreamed nobody else but Jim. It is too much, too weird that Jim would rather not to think of.  
“Why do you stay in the dream and refuse to weak up?” After a long and uncomfortable silence, he asks.  
“Nothing, just a little bit tired. After all those messes, I think I deserve a holiday.” Oswald replied, “Besides, I have faith on my men. They can take care of my business while I’m away.”  
Oswald empties his glass and smirks: “I’d rather not to talk about my business, after all, it’s too inhuman to discuss about work during holidays.”  
“Agree.”  
Oswald seems to be surprised at what he said. He researches Jim for a while, half amused and half disappointed.  
“Well, nothing is perfect.” He shrugs and explains, “You don’t sound like Jim now.”  
“Then tell me something about him.”  
Words slip out of his tone before he noticed. It is definitely cheating, prying about something you are not supposed to know. Since there is no such thing as time machine, he can do nothing but listen, expecting the normal bad words from a gangster to a cop.   
“He is a friend of mine, who saved my life several times, even at the risk of his own. And he is a good man, a reliable, faithful and honest man.” Oswald replies naturally, as if the words have been curved into his head. Jim recalled the day Oswald showed up in Barbara’s apartment, when he swore to God that he would never lie to Jim. At that time Jim thought it was a joke, not funny at all. But after so many arguments and fights, to his surprise, Oswald did keep his promise strictly. A liar as he is, he did mean every word he said to Jim. He did consider Jim as a friend, no matter Jim likes it or not.  
Jim thinks of last time they met each other. Actually it was just two days before. He let Oswald take and beat Galavan, who kidnapped his mother and tortured her to death. Oswald was completely overwhelmed by anger and sorrow; he hit Galavan so hard that Jim could hear the sound of bones breaking. He stopped Oswald by shooting Galavan right on the forehead. Oswald stood there for a while, watching the evil turn into a cold lifeless body. Slowly he turned around, walked toward Jim and smiled a pale smile. He limped worse than usual, Jim noticed, it must be the gun shot. Jim wanted to say something, in comfort or apology, but Oswald just past him, dragging an umbrella from the trunk and walked back to Galavan. It would be troublesome staying here watching Oswald dealing with the body, so he left alone. At that time he didn’t expect that he would receive Butch’s call just two days later, indicating that Oswald was lost in his dream, only Jim could weak him up – had he knew that, he would have done anything to avoid him being cursed by the so called witch.  
He almost lost in his thoughts when Oswald continues.   
“Well, I think I shouldn’t refer to him as my friend. He will never consider me as a friend. He hates everything about me.” Oswald smiled bitterly and murmured in low voice, “Well, shouldn’t complain about that. Cops and gangsters are doomed to be arch enemies.”  
Oswald smiles sadly at him, as if merely accepting the fact is hurting him fatally. Feeling a little bit guilty, he tries to comfort Oswald by saying “It’s nothing personal, like you said, it’s just about cops and gangsters.”  
“Yeah, perhaps you are right.” Oswald empties his glass and pours out another. Jim begins to worry that he will get drunk in his own dream. “I thought once that we could be better friend were he not a cop. However, in that case we will have no chance to meet, nor could I be his friend, which is an assumption that I can never accept.”   
This reminds Jim of a question that bothers him for a long time. He looks into Oswald’s eyes, and asks: “Why do you want to be his friend?” Oswald hasn’t pushing Jim to do anything in his favor yet, and he seems to have no intention of doing that in the future either.   
“I think it’s obvious, since you are the phantom created by her.” Oswald smiles, in a way he has never seen before, which alarms his nerves in a strange way. For a second he even thinks of running away from this dream.   
“I love him with heart and soul.”  
Jim falls into complete speechless on what he has just heard.   
Seemingly unnoticed of Jim’s expression, Oswald continued his confession: “I know from the first day we met that he will never date me. I’m the last person he would consider for a relationship. But I just can’t help. After all, who can stop the seed of love from blooming?”  
Oswald finishes his confession with a hopeless shrug. He drinks quietly without casting another look at Jim. Totally shocked by this unexpected confession, it takes eternity for Jim to regain his mind. Of all the possible answers he could expect, this one is completely out of his expectation. Jim has never had any relationship with men, nor did he ever expect to have one. Dummy as he was he never considered the possibility that Oswald may be more interested in male rather than female, since he had never seen him with any female except for his mother.   
He still remembers clearly the day, when he protected Galavan from the revenge of Oswald; and the heartbroken expression on Oswald’s face. Oswald has every right to be angry, as a son who loved his mother more than the entire world. But he never blamed Jim for deterring his revenge, he even saved Jim’s life when he was attacked by Galavan, brought him home and treated him as a friend, as if nothing had happened.   
It was already too much, not to mention how many times they’ve broken their own rules to help the other. Their relationship has already been too deep and complicated to be defined as friendship. Yet he kept ignoring it, kept blinding his eyes and deafening his ears. How stupid he was not to realize the way Oswald gazed at him; and How heartless was he to take advantage of his affection – unintentionally though – to get the lead or favor he needed?  
Guilt, and some feelings deeper, overwhelms him like a mighty tsunami. He can’t help but gazing at Oswald, recalling the horror that rushed through his body when he heard Butch commanded the men to prepare a funeral for Oswald. Now he knows that it’s the horror everyone would feel when his beloved one is at death’s door.  
Since he was kidnapped and almost shot by Barbara, Jim has peacefully accepted the fact that he always attracts dangerous people, from Barbara to Oswald, and he is attracted by this type as well. As he said he just disliked the dark part Oswald represents, not Oswald himself. The king of gangster is determined, intelligent and honest – though not to everyone, which is usually the characteristic he adores much.  
Jim signs helplessly, dragging the collar of Oswald and puts him into a violent kiss. Only when their lips touch does he realize how long he has been aching for this.   
However, their first kiss doesn’t last long. He is stopped by a knife, pointing at his throat. He draws back, raises his eyes and meets Oswald’s, all the affection in those blue eyes fades into suspicious and anger.  
“You cross the line, Phantom.” Oswald steps back a little, with a cold and bloody smile on his face, “that’s too far even for a dream.”  
“I’m not a phantom, Oswald.”  
Like a magic word, the nightclub breaks around them like a sand castle eroding by the tide. The last scene he can see is the expression on Oswald’s face, full of disbelief, horror and bitterness. 

Then here they are, back to the cozy guestroom of Jim’s, with that cursed stone still in his hand.   
That moment will of no doubt be the most weird one in his life. They wake up from the same dream, staring at each other on the same bed, so close they are that Jim can almost feel Oswald’s heart beating fast.  
It is Oswald who breaks this awkward silence.   
“I’m terribly sorry.” He apologizes in sharp and broken voice; his face is as pale as paper, “Please, Jim, I beg you forget everything I said. I didn’t mean to bother you with that, never will I ask for anything more than friendship from you…”  
He is stopped by a gentle but firm kiss.  
“Calm down, Oswald. It’s fine.” He hugs Oswald firmly, feeling the skinny man trembling in his arms. Suddenly he doesn’t care about all those old issues between them at all, here in his arms is the one he cares so much, and who cherishes him more than his own life. It will be too greedy to think of more.   
“It’s fine.” He murmurs to Oswald’s ear, feeling their legs pressing each other, everything feels so right, he wants it to stay like that, for every morning that follows.  
“I’m glad you told me your true feeling. I love you too, Oswald, even though I still dislike the fact that you are a gangster – well, the king of gangster.”  
After a long silence Oswald replies, in low and vague voice.  
“It’s embarrassing, really embarrassing.”   
Jim smiles on seeing Oswald’s ears blush; he caresses his black hair, and presses another kiss on his forehead.  
“Agree. Now, let’s get up and grab something to eat, I’m starving to death.”

**Author's Note:**

> Gotham is AWESOME!  
> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy it : )


End file.
